


Quite literally, "Plot? What plot?"

by flashed_drive



Category: The Stanley Parable
Genre: Hastily written, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Trans Character, literally not gonna bother editing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 16:07:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17206574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashed_drive/pseuds/flashed_drive
Summary: Stanley needed a break, just for a moment, but the Narrator caught him at a bad time.(dont evem look in this fics general direction. it sucks. i wrote it over 3 days in big bursts after work and its just MESSY)





	Quite literally, "Plot? What plot?"

**Author's Note:**

> vape

The door remained closed.

The small office room, boxed in and isolated, was shielded from the outside world, from all eyes, for sure. And, unsurprisingly, Stanley was at his desk, pushing buttons, looking at papers, the like.

He should have been getting up, ahem, and yet there he remained, in his chair, fidgeting in his lap. Stop twiddling your thumbs and get up.

Apparently, silence followed. Are you listening to me? 

… STANLEY. I can’t see what would be so interesting in your hands that you’re ignoring any sense of plot outside of this room. What do you expect to do with a story if it has no plot?

Ah.

Stanley’s pants were halfway down. Goddamn it, Stanley, that’s no good excuse for plot, NOR is it decent. Stanley pulled up his pants like a mature, grown man, and went out the door.

…  
Do I need to repeat myself?

Pull your pants up for the love of god, I can nearly see down there you know.

Oh, and NOW you’re all skittish? You were already in your office, mind you, and as far as you’re aware, someone could have walked in! Stanley, you should be ashamed of yourself.

Stanley stared up at nothing, hands covering his...area, and… Stanley, are you okay?

Tears were running down his cheeks, which was very clear, for one, and also… Look, I’m sorry I looked, I didn’t even see anything! Promise! Here, wait, I’ll turn away from the monitor and everything. 

ᴵ'ᵐ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᶦᶜʳᵒᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰᶦⁿᵍ. ᴳᵒ ᵒⁿ, ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵈᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ.

…

𝘤 𝘳 𝘦 𝘦 𝘢 𝘢 𝘢 𝘬

…  
Stanley did not hear a chair move right then.

...oh my goodness--? I’m sorry, I’m going to be completely honest. I looked again. Yes. And I’m sorry, I won’t tell anyone! Really, believe me! I, um, ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ᴵ ˢᵃʸ…

You look fine, a-at least? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I am not making this any better for anyone. Well, if it makes you feel any better, you’re safe.

The door creaked open, and, surprise! Nobody is there, whatsoever, I promise. Don’t be afraid! All your coworkers are gone, completely, nobody to be embarrassed from!

Well, a-aside from me. And I’m in place for an apology, so…

huff, I’m sorry for looking at you there, especially with your...personal secrets, for no good reason whatsoever. There, does that make you feel better?

Stanley stared down at the floor, and one could only hope he wasn’t crying. O-once again! Very, very sorry.

…

Stanley was thumbing at his pants, hopefully to not continue his uncouth earlier activity… Unless he wanted to! I’m in no place to boss you around, at least not right now, just as a sincere sorry.

Do you need me to turn around?

No...?? Well, you could always go in the broom closet, my explicit permission.

Nooo? What do you mean- Ah, well, that’s rather undignified...of me, personally. Stanley was, he was displaying himself, on the- on the floor… I know I’m the narrator, but goodness, I just-! I feel so undignified, narrating such a...personal thing, you could just-

…  
… …

Well...Stanley was sitting with his back against the wall, and his fingers glazed over his slick and pilose entrance, teasingly, goddamn it. He was grinning a little too, mischievous as always, and-- hold on a moment. You were doing this earlier, weren’t you? Are you sure your fingers are enough? Here, wait just a second.

… A filing cabinet opened up just inside your office, Stanley. Go look inside.

There you go, consider it another apology. There’s some lubricant in there too if it’ll help.

It’s a translucent, green...toy, of sorts, in case you needed it.

And so Stanley did, um...lubricating the length with-- No, not your mouth! You may hurt yourself, for God’s sake! Spit is not lube!

You never listen to me, really! God, and-- Nhh, Stanley bit back a moan as the toy went against his pudendum, and his hole twitched, n-needing to be filled… Oh dear lord, what am I doing? Stanley, are you sure you want me to say literally everything you’re doing…?

...If you insist…

Stanley positioned himself on his chair, his feet propped up on either side of the computer, and he placed the long, erm...running out of non-explicit synonyms, Stanley, I’m terribly sorry if I sound informal, but the dildo sat on his lips before he pressured the girth inside of him. Stanley trembled, his body becoming weak, and his actions languid. Goodness, how lewd of him...and he knew it, based on the sultry look on his face. Slowly, he took it all in, adjusting himself to the feeling of being filled to the brim, a-and he covered the length of the dick with his juices. The whole scene was so unchaste, god forbid anyone be w-watching, right Stanley? He lurched into an unsteady, erratic, desperate rolling of the hips, and-- oh my GOD! Stanley, Stanley, please, you’re so handsome, Stanley, I love you! Fuck-!!…

Which.

Which is what Stanley would have said, in his head, in the third person, as he climaxed with--- with nobody else, whatsoever… His vagina relaxed against the silicon he had been squeezing around so tightly, having waves of pleasure wash over him like, oh, I don’t know...a rising tide, warm and comforting. This has certainly been a story, but… Should we reset? It’s quite a mess of both the story and the workplace we’ve made, wouldn’t you agree? It’s been fun, but…

“No,” Stanley signed, and the Narrator complied...begrudgingly.

**Author's Note:**

> I HRGRGHHRGH. HMRGHRM. i dont like writing in the narrators perspective but it feels a SIN to narrate a narrator so i j. I'LL WRITE BETTER NEXT TIME and maybe it will be less horny and weirdly venty and awkward


End file.
